Soul Searchers
by Rothelena
Summary: Red John is dead. Jane is gone. And Lisbon needs to find herself, so she starts a little journey... Rated M for later chapters. Jisbon!
1. Chapter 1

_So… I'm going to post chapter one now, just like that. I finished four chapters so far, but it took me quite a long time to write them and I don't have much time at the moment, so I can't really tell you when chapter five will be up- at least I can promise that you will get the first four updates daily._

_About this story: it's not much, and it will earn its rating in the LATER chapters, so don't get impatient :D… or scared. But this story will be rated VERY M, so if you don't like that, better not start._

_I still think that, sadly, season six will be the last. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's what I believe. And: I think Heller breaks the whole team up in the second half of the season to break the whole team up, which makes sense: Wayne and Grace want to get married and can't do that inside the CBI. Cho has been more than capable to lead his own team for a while, Jane will need time to heal and was never really into this cop-thing anyway, and even for Lisbon, it might just be over- that was hinted at when she had lunch with Haffner and he described what the job would be like without Jane… we all could see that this is not what she wants. And: Lisbon isn't really "the law" any more after all the years, she has betrayed her principles more than once for Jane, so I think she's not 100% behind it any longer. I think she will leave CBI with Jane… and that's what this story is about._

_In this fic, Jane has killed Red John… I somehow still hope he won't, but I wanted to play around with it. I would prefer if someone else would shoot him- maybe Lisbon, but the best would be Cho, in my opinion. But, as I said- here, it was Jane._

_I just hope I'll be able to write a little over the next few weeks- I'm awfully busy. But: I will do anything I can to finish this before the new season starts, promise!_

_Now- enjoy. I hope it's any good._

_Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist", and I don't make money from fan fiction._

Soul Searchers

Chapter 1

Emptiness. All that remained was a vast emptiness, covering every aspect of her life.

Teresa Lisbon prodded the cream-colored carpet with the tip of her shoe, staring down in glum despair. The fabric was worn in places, and for every little spot, she could tell exactly why.

Ten years of life. Of tears, of laughter, of grief. Of hopes and fears. Of endless loneliness. Of secretly being in love. Ten years of Patrick Jane. Gone.

The rooms were empty now, she had effectively cleared them, purging her past along with furniture and clutter.

It was time to go.

Time to leave all of this behind her. Time to start a new life.

She closed her eyes on a soundless whimper, swallowing the next round of tears. Fact was, she didn't want this life any longer, but she had never been a coward, so chickening out now wasn't an option. She would just take it as a social experiment. Grieving female, middle-aged. How very fascinating.

Jane had smiled all the time, ever since he had announced he would leave CBI for good. A hurt, begging smile, she would never forget it. He had tried to make it easier for her, had been a model consultant, not causing a fuss, after she had covered his traces. His mind had already been on the future. And then, he had been gone.

After that, Bertram had waited exactly two days before he had fired her, and she had well seen it coming. And the things she had done to catch Red John were a joke against what Bertram didn't even know- she could be glad that the agency hadn't pressed charges against her. Without Jane, their golden boy, Bertram had seen no reason to keep her. And she probably wouldn't have stayed anyway.

A sense of deep sorrow whispered inside her heart.

She had no idea if there was someone in Jane's life, and thinking about it hurt so much she wasn't willing to do that to herself again. He was gone. She hoped he was happy, coming to terms with what had happened. Nothing else mattered, and she had stopped mattering much, too.

For the last time, she opened her door and went outside. Her hand trembled when she pushed her key into the lock, sealing the gate to her past. New people would move in here soon, and it already didn't feel like hers anymore.

Turning, intent on not looking back, she crossed the street, so slowly a snail would have been able to run her over. The huge motor home on the other side waited for her like a little cave she would be able to hide in, and she was grateful that she had purchased it after all. For running was all she could do.

She had spent the months since Jane had been gone learning how to repair this car, every free minute, reading books, finding people to tutor her, piling up tools and spare parts, preparing herself for life on the road. She had mobilized every cent of money she had, sold everything she didn't absolutely need, and was surprised at how much had gathered over the years… well, that was an up, at least: empty lives didn't cost much, so her salary hadn't done much but piling up on her bank account. Life insurance, money from her apartment's sale and a sizeable heritage she had never touched- she collected what she could spare. She just needed to get away, there was nothing more important right now.

He had smiled all the time, and her hands had itched to touch him, just once, before he vanished from her life forever. Just this once. But as always, she had been the dutiful best friend, and when she had said her goodbye to Cho, the only one still left of the team they once were, her tears had already dried.

She entered the oversized car, climbing the driver's seat like a tree that would bring her out of reach, into an illusionary safety that might keep her alive for now. She touched the steering wheel, everything so big, and wished she could just shrink and shrink until the sorry rest of her would evaporate into a thin grey mist.

She had no tears anymore. So why was it her cheeks were wet?

With a sigh she turned the key in the ignition and let the motor's sound flow into her bones. As the streets went by, her Sacramento, the place she had once called home, she felt her tears drip onto her throat and still did not really know where she took them from.

She felt empty. Too empty to house even a speck of memories.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Endless hours later she needed to use the bathroom, her arms ached, but she just had to go on.

For the first time, she managed to see the world with Patrick Jane's eyes, and it was beautiful. The desert was gorgeous, and it was the place where she had always wanted to go since she had learned that he would indeed leave, that what they had was over for him. Over with the death of Red John. She blinked, not wanting to think about that, about how the serial killer had died, about what had happened afterwards. The pain clotted her nose.

She stopped when it was dark, hating the sense of utter loneliness like a little child would, or a soul so used to it, being on its own started to taint its very heart. She waited for a few seconds, right in the middle of the street, letting the silence seep in.

Deciding not to leave the car, she drove it into the security of some dry bushes nearby and wasted several more minutes just sitting. Where was she? What was she doing here? She closed her eyes and immediately saw Patrick Jane's apologetic smile… yes, he had been sorry. Sorry to hurt her again. But he'd had to go. She had felt his restlessness.

And he had told her he wouldn't be back. Pain made her heart contract.

She was almost out of power and would have to reach a trailer park soon, so she just left all the lights out and groped her way to the back in utter darkness, finding her bed on instinct, simply discarding all her clothes on the way. Naked, she crawled into the bunk, made for two people and surprisingly spacious. Her chest closed again, making breathing hard for a second.

Sleep eluded her for a long while, and when she finally dozed off, she saw sea- green eyes and a smile that seemed to whisper "I'm sorry", and when she tried to reach Patrick Jane through the mist he blew her a kiss and was gone. All that remained was the echo of her own voice, crying for him.

Looking at her reflection in the morning, she found her face wet and tried to see it as another scientific observation. Crying herself to sleep. Good thing her team didn't need to see her like this, good thing nobody could see her. Her team didn't exist anymore, and she would finish her life alone.

Venturing outside, finding herself unable to eat anything anyway, she took a few minutes to bask in the slow winter warmth of the South, feeling the faint, prickling sensation it left on her skin. She wasn't scared to take a deep breath, dry air rasping deep into her lungs.

Time to start driving again, she needed to recharge the batteries, or her empty fridge would start to run out of power. Her stomach rumbled sickly, but she couldn't bring herself to eat anything. Brushing her teeth cleared her mind well enough, and ten minutes later she was on the road again.

The light was as red as the dry earth, and Lisbon watched the crippling sadness inside her as if it didn't truly belong to her, had invaded her heart like a dollop of syrupy tar, clotting her veins and arteries until all she could see was blackish despair. There was nothing left of her but that, and still she felt a sense of confusion, as if the derangement of her life seemed like a strange story unable to happen in real life.

How could that have happened. How could she have fallen in love like that. She hadn't even cared about the job. Not compared to the way she had cared about him.

Shaking her head, she forced herself to abandon the thought. It was idiotic to make everything worse, an indulgent pastime that wouldn't help her. She wouldn't allow this to destroy her. If she was meant to suffer, she would suffer in dignity. She needed to stop the car, tears blurring her vision.

Only a few miles. A few miles to what? There was no new life waiting for her. She giggled helplessly, remembering her childish fantasies from before they had caught Red John. How naïve she had been. And look where she was now.

Loneliness formed a bubble inside her, threatening to eat her beating heart. She swallowed and found her mouth dry and papery, the unwanted tears having drained her. Not granting herself the time for a drink, she started the car with brisk, effective movements. Only a few miles to the trailer park. She could drive fast if she had to.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Patrick Jane eyed the perfectly prepared Sirloin steak in front of him without even a hint of an appetite, wondering for the umpteenth time what the hell he was doing here. This was supposed to be freedom, wasn't it?

So why did he feel caged, strange, detached from everything around him?

CBI had called him about twenty times by now. He hadn't bothered to call back, knowing what was behind it. More money, another even greater team, maybe a well-meant attempt at blackmail. He couldn't care less.

Strangely, Lisbon hadn't been among his callers, not once. Had she dismissed him that quickly? She had been sad when he had left, he had felt it, and it had hurt him more than he dared to admit.

Lisbon. His heart clenched violently, and he chuckled humorlessly, scaring the other guests around him.

This was supposed to be freedom. But he felt nothing good.

Women kept hitting on him, and he didn't want any of them. He'd tried at first, desperate for normalcy and something totally new, but even kissing had seemed unthinkable, so he had stopped. Sometimes, he even stopped being polite. The brilliant sunlight hurt his eyes, there was nothing easy about this. Obviously, his life had always been more over than he'd thought.

He didn't want to eat, his stomach hurt, so he pushed the plate away from him.

His heart was a swirling mess of longing and regret, and he hated it, hated the vulnerability, the weakness. He didn't miss work in law enforcement, he couldn't get far away enough from gore and killers. But he missed her. He had always wanted nothing but her. And he had been too arrogant to admit it, had rather run than risk love again. As if he'd ever had a choice.

He shook his head out of the glum stare he had adopted. She was a color of his past, it was time to search for a future elsewhere.

He paid for his untouched dinner listlessly, the tropical heat plastering his clothes to his skin. But paradise couldn't be where she wasn't, and she wasn't part of his existence any longer.

He spent another sweaty night inside his hotel room, rumpling the sheets in his frantic search for some rest. But whenever he managed to fall asleep, it was her face that kept appearing… not the beloved ones of his family. Just hers. He threw the lamp on his nightstand against the wall with all the force he could muster, reveling in the satisfying sound of shattering glass.

He got up, shedding his drenched pajamas, sitting naked in the darkness for a while.

Would Lisbon like it here? Nah, it wasn't her kind of fun. Too fake, and she would complain endlessly about the lack of decent beer. And he? He would run from one end of the city to the next to find her a brand she loved.

He smiled sadly, and it was the sadness that seemed to spread, until it filled his fingertips, the pores on his lips, the roots of his hair, making his scalp feel too tight. He couldn't go on like this. It hurt more than he had ever thought it would, and he realized he wasn't able to overcome it.

Only two ways to deal with it: go back. Or suicide.

He actually pondered the question.

Bertram would have a field day. But maybe he could woo Lisbon without working for the CBI? Meh, he would end up doing it anyway, just to seek her closeness, be with her all day. His heart made a happy little jump at the thought, and he felt the warmth from it like a hot shower on a freezing day.

Or kill himself? His life wasn't really worth much at the moment, and… what if Lisbon wouldn't have him? Not now, not tomorrow, not next year? If he had destroyed what had grown between them by carelessly throwing it away?

Damn, how he regretted that now! Regretted it every minute, every day, every shallow breath he took.

He brooded all night. But he had spent enough miserable months in the living hell of his mind, it was time for a decision, here and now.

In the end, he picked up the phone.

"Hello? I need a flight to Sacramento. As soon as possible, please."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for your encouragement! I'm glad you liked the beginning, and hope you'll like the rest- here's chapter 2!_

_Little warning: I wrote an OC for this, but he passed the Universal Mary Sue Litmus Test with flying colors, so we should be safe. I'm always a little insecure writing original characters, so I hope he's okay._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist, and I don't make money from fan fiction._

Ch. 2

Lisbon looked around, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Much too many people around the trailer park for her liking, she kept her eyes on the ground to discourage them from attempting conversation. Recharge the power, then out. But where to?

One thing was sure: she couldn't stay in this overcrowded spot with the holidaying party crowd. Her skin prickled with unease. And the motor home took forever to charge.

"Up on the ridge, there's a spot you can put the van. No people. Right up there- you see it?"

She looked up at the speaker and found a young man, almost ridiculously tall, a head full of sandy-colored dreadlocks, much too thin. Her protective instincts kicked in, and she was almost relieved. She would keep her contacts with men well in the area of sisterly protectiveness, thank you very much, and this one fit the pattern.

"How do you know what I'm looking for?"

He shrugged.

"I'm just observant."

Lisbon closed her eyes.

"Please. I spent the last decade in the company of a fake psychic. No more, I beg of you."

He laughed, a full, growling laugh, and for the first time since her journey had begun, she felt the burden ease a little. She directed her stern gaze onto his sharply protruding ribs.

"Tell me, do you indulge in eating sometimes?"

"Pot calls kettle, or what?"

As if on cue, her stomach gave a hearty rumble. She grinned sheepishly.

"Touchè."

A Patrick Jane kind of expression, and the pain flooded her heart like sickening rain, making her nauseous with longing. Oh my god, when would this stop?

"What's your name?" She asked the young guy, who was staring attentively at her now.

He extended his hand, his grip firm and satisfying when she accepted it.

"I'm Derek. You?"

"Teresa."

"Well, Teresa- you want me to show you the secret spot where you can put the van? Breathtaking view of the Canyon included."

She hesitated. The last thing she wanted was a love-struck boy on her heels, she was fed-up with fighting and conflict.

"Listen, Derek, I… I… I'm not really looking for company right now, do you get me?"

He chuckled.

"You mean you don't want sex and you absolutely won't fall in love, because you're still love sick from the last guy who you were really serious about but who ripped your heart out… believe me, I get it."

She stared at him in disbelief, and his smile deepened.

"That fake psychic? Jesus, didn't your mom tell you not to fall for guys like that?"

"She died when I was twelve."

"Figures. If it helps, I have a little girlfriend- been together with her for six years. She's not very jealous, but if I would try to hit on you she'd kick my ass faster than you could… I'm just gonna show you the spot, nothing else. Promise."

Lisbon nodded.

"Why is it you don't camp there yourselves?"

He laughed, a full, throaty sound that filled the dry air around them.

"My Lorna in solitude? It would kill her in hours. Nah, you can have the lonely spots all to yourself, sad little Teresa."

"Little? I'm twice your age!"

She climbed into her motor home, which was finally fully charged again, while Derek took the passenger seat, folding his large frame gracefully to fit the space.

"You're not," he chuckled," believe me, you're not. This way, ma'am."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Jane felt some kind of amused dread when he approached CBI headquarters, if there even was such a feeling. There he was- back in the lion's den, the cage he'd just escaped. Maybe not a smart move- not that he had a choice.

Jim was visibly happy to see him and almost crushed him against his massive chest, and it felt good, good to be recognized, welcome. Especially since Lisbon would most likely slap the hell out of him before she would even be ready to talk, but he was prepared for that. He had earned it. He might just as well suck it up.

But when he entered the bullpen, he found it full of strange people he had no connection with, although he knew most of them superficially. His couch was gone.

He went back to Jim, down in the lobby where he had still felt the comfort of the familiar.

"Uhm, Jim… where is Agent Lisbon?"

Jim's face grew dark immediately, and Jane could almost read the whole story inside his eyes. His heart sank. No.

"She isn't here any longer." Jim said slowly, his voice much softer than his face, "everything changed, Mr. Jane. She left only a few days after you did. I haven't seen her since."

She was gone. Jane clenched his fists to stop his fingers from trembling.

"Is the whole unit gone?" He asked hoarsely.

"Mr. Cho is still here, in special ops. I guess he's in, there is no operation scheduled for today, so you could be lucky catching him."

Jane thanked him with a brief nod and searched his way through the endless hallways until he found the rooms of special ops, like a mirror universe to his old bullpen.

Cho sat behind his desk, talking to Tamsen Ward who would be his boss now, and he could see that there was more than professional respect between them. It looked as if Mr. Cho had finally secured a really great spot in life. He deserved it.

But when Cho looked at him, his smiling face became the icy mask Jane already knew, and he shuddered. Yeah, they hated him, all of them. Looked as if they had even more reason than he had thought.

Cho looked at Tamsen, and Jane saw it, the feelings swirling inside his eyes. Serious, this one.

"Excuse me," Cho said, putting his hand gently on his superior's arm. She blushed, and smiled a much too girly smile for such a tough woman.

Cho approached Jane slowly, with a considerable prowl, almost threateningly.

Jane closed his eyes briefly before he swiftly got his composure back, the old instincts kicking in. Damn, he had fucked up this time. But all of this wasn't important. The only thing that counted was finding Lisbon, FAST. Find her, keep her safe. No matter the cost.

"Jane," Cho growled low in his throat, crossing his arms over his massive chest, "what do you want?"

Jane pulled his eyebrows up and tried an arrogant, half-hearted smile.

"How good to see you, Cho. I'm looking for the lovely agent Lisbon and was surprised to find her gone."

Cho's eyes got even darker.

"After you left, Bertram fired her immediately."

Every word felt like a punch, and Jane couldn't help instinctively recoiling. He tried to regroup fast, but knew well enough that his composure was gone.

"I need to find her."

Cho shrugged, trying to portray a coldness he clearly didn't feel.

"I don't know where she is. I hope somewhere she can heal. You've never been good for her, Jane. Stop looking for her."

Jane looked away, hurt growing inside his guts like an ugly flower.

"I can't."

When he looked at him again, Cho's face had softened considerably.

"She's not answering her phone. She cleared her desk, her stuff, every trace that she's ever been here. To be honest, I'm worried sick about her. I don't doubt you can find her. But if you do- tread lightly, Jane. She's been through enough."

With a brisk nod, he turned and walked away, and Jane left the building as fast as he could, not even bothering to take a last look at the attic he had lived in for so long.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon's apartment was brightly illuminated, but Jane immediately knew she wasn't here when he approached the door.

He closed his eyes briefly. What had he done? He should have realized that Bertram would fire her the first chance he got, but the director had played nice as long as Jane had been there, trying his best to hold him. Jane had concentrated his forces on breaking free from CBI's hold, forgetting all about Lisbon in his vigor. He snorted. Hadn't been the first time.

He needed her with a wild, throbbing intensity, so much it felt like slowly going insane. He would do whatever it took- was prepared to suffer. Anything for his Lisbon.

He knocked on the door, letting the sound echo through the clear, quiet night.

A short, blond woman opened, a gurgling baby riding low on her hip.

Jane mustered his trademark smile.

"Excuse me, my name is Patrick Jane, I'm looking for the previous owner of this house- do you have any information you can share?"

"Oh," the woman exclaimed, "the policewoman? She was so kind- made us a very good price for the house, we wouldn't have been able to buy it otherwise. But- she never said where she was moving. She seemed… a little sad, so we were reluctant to bother her much. Sorry I can't say more."

Jane nodded, smiling politely.

"No problem. I didn't really think she would tell anybody of her plans. I will find her. Thank you for your time."

He turned to go, his heart heavy with loss, when a rough, male voice called him back.

"Hey, man!"

He turned and found a tall, dark-haired, carefully groomed man standing behind the blond woman.

He shrugged.

"Don't know if that helps, but… I'm a car dealer. When she brought the keys for this house to my office, Ms. Lisbon… showed interest in a very large motor home. I was surprised, because I took it she was all alone, but she knew exactly what she wanted. She asked a million questions about the car, and she already knew a lot about it. I recommended some books, and- she bought the monster, a really huge thing, made for four to five people. I got the impression that she was planning a big tour. No idea. Thought it might help."

Jane smiled brightly.

"Believe me- it helps a lot."

He could definitely work with that.

A few busy hours later, he was closing the door of the garage with a rattling sound of grating metal. Jane sighed deeply. He hated leaving his car, even temporary, but he was more flexible without it, strange as that sounded. He shouldered the backpack he had purchased and walked the short distance to the road, following the noise through the approaching darkness. He hadn't hitchhiked in what felt like a million years, but he had no doubt that he would reach his destination.

It hadn't taken him long to figure it all out.

Lisbon had had a picture of the Grand Canyon inside her apartment, and another one in her wallet, and while he had never given it much thought before, it made sense now… her heart would feel like a desert. Maybe she had never seen the Grand Canyon before, maybe the oversized hole in the ground held some mythical fascination for her. It didn't matter- he was sure it was where she would start her journey.

It took only five minutes before the first driver stopped for him… a woman. He sighed and tried to make polite, superficial small talk, tolerating the giggling flirtatiousness of his host with a smile while his thoughts were already looming far ahead, focused on the search for his salvation.

Lisbon. A thousand miles between you and me. But I will stop at nothing.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Fuck it. Why kept his van breaking down, for god's sake? So what if it was ancient. It had to do his duty like all of them, dammit.

Derek straightened and rubbed his arm over his sweaty forehead. Thank god night was fast approaching, and with it the pleasant desert coolness, a welcome respite from the Southern warmth. He didn't wear a shirt, and still felt heated enough to fry eggs on his chest.

"Can you fix it, baby?" Lorna's sweet voice floated from the inside of their camper van.

Derek sighed.

"Sure, darling. Give me half an hour, and it's as good as new."

He groaned and leaned over the open hood again. How he craved a cigarette right now, but no way- he had stopped. He wouldn't allow any more of that poison inside his body. That was what this was all about, wasn't it? Cleansing. The brunt of people at the Canyon where here to fix their broken lives. Soul searching. He was no exception.

Lorna and he had escaped, and happiness almost felt in reach for the first time in his life now. Things were good, so he wouldn't complain.

Needing to hug his woman so badly, he shook his head to clear it for the task at hand. Car first.

If he couldn't fix it after all, he could always ask Teresa- damn, did this woman know about cars. But she seemed so desperately clinging to her solitude, most of the time he didn't dare to disturb her.

He was humming along, finally making some headway, when he sensed somebody approaching. Frowning, he looked up, perusing his visitor.

A blond man, middle-aged, boyishly handsome, but a little disheveled. His welcoming smile was big, making Derek think he could easily hide something enormous behind it. But he sensed something dark inside this newcomer, something scarred and broken that would put most sad life stories to shame. He wore a dark grey suit minus the jacket, a little out-of-place for the environment even in winter, and a freaking vest.

He looked like a tousled magician.

He be damned if that wasn't Teresa Lisbon's fake psychic.

Derek slammed the car's hood shut and straightened to his full 6 feet 5, puffing his bare chest a little. Cleaning his grimy hands on a dish towel, he immediately felt the mood of the approaching man change. He seemed to evaluate him now, no doubts sensing his hostility, but at the same time realizing that he could provide the needed information. Derek stopped, standing his ground, and they eyed each other cautiously.

"Hey." The stranger said after some seconds of heavy silence.

"Heeeeeeyy." Derek drawled, stretching the sound as long as he could.

"My name is Patrick Jane." He didn't even try to offer him his hand, knowing Derek wouldn't take it anyway. "I'm looking for a woman, her name is Teresa Lisbon."

Derek huffed.

"Go figure."

The man seemed to scan him, his eyes made him feel uncomfortable.

"Do you know her?"

"Would it help anything if I said no?"

The guy smiled.

"No."

"Everything alright, darling?" Lorna pushed her small frame against his hip, and Derek growled a little… of course she would show up now, when he would have liked to let this clown believe he could have some rival for Teresa's affection in him.

He softened his voice.

"Everything's fine, love," he said, brushing his fingertips over his woman's jaw, "this is Patrick Jane, he's looking for Teresa."

Lorna's gentle eyes hardened into unforgiving steel when she looked at the stranger.

"You're the bastard who broke her heart? Strange- I always thought you would look exactly like this. She's not here- moved on a few days ago."

"Sweetie," Derek muttered, "lying doesn't really work here."

But the blond pretty-boy looked genuinely guilty now, shame and self-hate clouding the put-up cheerfulness. Derek almost felt sorry for him. A little.

"We can't help you," he said, much softer than he would have liked to, "we can't stop you from finding her, but we won't aide you. She can't take much more. Why don't you leave her in peace?"

The stranger looked at him.

"I can't."

"What do you want that you haven't already taken, man?"

He swallowed.

"I don't want to take. I want to give. I'm here to throw myself at her feet. With all I have."

Derek sighed. Fuck it. He pointedly looked up to the far ridge, where Teresa's lonely van sat somewhere in the approaching dusk, sensing the foreigners gaze follow his own.

"She's one of the saddest souls around here," he murmured, "and that's saying something. Don't make it worse, man."

He turned and stepped into his van, pulling Lorna with him, hoping to god that had been somehow… the right decision.

TBC

_Hope you liked that! Thank you for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so much for your feedback! I wrote chapter 5 today, and I must admit- I got from angsty to sexy faster than I intended in the beginning, sorry! I just hope you'll like it… at least the writing is progressing nicely, so you won't have to wait too long for updates._

_Thank you for reading my stuff!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist", and I don't make money from fan fiction._

Ch.3

He was severely out of breath once he had climbed the high ridge and the fact that there had been an actual road had only eased the task a little.

The blackish silhouette of a big motor home contrasted sharply with the darkening sky, a small fire burning on the ground in front of it.

Lisbon was nowhere to be seen, but he felt an almost electrical sense of excitement running through his veins. He hadn't seen her in months. He couldn't wait.

He slowly, carefully walked around the massive van, scanning his surroundings, when suddenly, his eye caught sight of a small shadowy figure at the edge of the Canyon. His heart made a leap inside his chest.

She hugged her knees close to her body, staring into the Canyon in quiet repose, her face calm and sad in the dying light. She was so beautiful. He wanted her so much.

He didn't dare to draw attention to himself, so he just waited, minute after minute, until she sensed a change in her surroundings and looked up.

When she saw him, her surprise was so big he was scared she would fall off the cliff, and he hastened to make a few steps in her direction before he caught himself.

She got up and approached him slowly, as if suspended in some kind of trance.

"Jane," she whispered, the relief enormous in every word, "you're alright."

She extended her hands, but stopped herself before she would have touched his chest. She recoiled, and for a fleeting moment, she looked like a frightened little girl scared of getting burned again. But any way to protect herself seemed gone, and she presented herself vulnerable, open, dangerously soft. He'd never seen her like this.

For a second, it was all there, the love, the longing, the want. So many feelings he could taste them, and the silence seemed to last forever, eyes doing the talking, speaking nothing but the truth.

Before she hardened her gaze, covered her open soul with the enormous strength she possessed.

He saw everything tumble, break down, it didn't come as a surprise, but it hurt so much he felt needy like a little boy, his soul begging for her forgiveness when his tongue could not. Her voice was sharp and cutting.

"Leave, please. You shouldn't be here."

It was as if he'd been woken from a beautiful dream by being doused with ice water. The shock made him vulnerable and careless.

He felt tears rise in his eyes and was grateful that the darkness hid them from her view.

"Why do you hate me so, Teresa?"

It was not even a real question, for he knew she had ample reason to hate him. It was nothing but the hurt little boy speaking from somewhere deep inside his heart.

He heard a sound that was like a sob, deep and broken, cut short in the middle as if she wouldn't allow herself to cry.

"I don't hate you, Jane. But I won't go through this, ever again. I … couldn't even stand myself these past months. I'm not going to go there again. And…"

She made a heavy pause, no doubt trying to compose herself, her mind wandering back to a pain that had been even more fatal.

"…you could leave, just like that. You didn't even give me a real goodbye, Jane. These last days, you were… already gone. I couldn't take hold of you. And then- you vanished into thin air. And I was worried again, every day, every night, wondering if you were healing. If you were doing fine."

She sighed.

"I never thought it could hurt that much."

She absently rubbed the skin over her heart.

He swallowed a desperate sob, stopping the urge to grab her, pull her close, let her cry against his chest, get it all out. He clenched his fists, desperately searching for some kind of control, a way back to the things he knew.

"I see. I didn't know I made you lose your job…"

She snorted.

"Fuck the job, Jane."

She walked past him, taking care to extinguish the fire, submerging the world into darkness.

He looked at her in some kind of quiet, pained fascination, as if he would never be able to take his eyes off her again.

She stilled, her back to him, just standing there, obviously staring ahead into the darkness.

"What do you want here, Jane?"

Her voice sounded small and forlorn, and he couldn't say it, emotions clotting his throat, everything too raw, too urgent. The words wouldn't form.

Lisbon sighed.

"Go away. Let's stop here, before things start to get truly ugly. It was good seeing you, great to know you're alright. Just… go now."

She entered the van and closed the door with a dry thud, dismissing him.

He closed his eyes and wanted to cry. Already it was starting to get cooler, in no time it would get seriously uncomfortable.

But he just couldn't leave.

He was prepared for everything. He knew it would probably be bitterly cold during the night, but he wouldn't budge. He could stand the cold, biofeedback had never disappointed him, and no matter what happened, he would stay.

The ground still held the day's heat, so he sat down there, rubbing his hands against the red dust to gather its warmth for the cold hours to come.

His heart felt torn and heavy. He deserved this, though. He had hurt her badly, and he would pay the price, every single dime. Closing his eyes, he mustered some biofeedback tricks to contain his body warmth as long as possible.

xxxxxxxxxx

He was still sitting there, and Lisbon could almost feel the cold creeping up from the canyon, ready to engulf the world in its icy embrace. Every night it got so cold that she needed two blankets to get toasty. And damn- she still loved him, so much her heart felt bloody.

Everything inside her told her to keep him close. But- he had just left her as if she had meant nothing. Where had he been? Her mind went back to the moment when she had went searching for him, finding his attic empty. Finding him gone from her life, just like that. Bertram calling her to his office when she was still in a state of shock. Her stopping Cho from acting out against the director- he would have destroyed his career for her. And Jane- had just been gone, as if he had never existed.

The things she had done for him. She had betrayed her principles for him over and over, and facing the same situation, she would do it again without even thinking. Losing him had almost killed her. And she had been helpless, forced to watch. Shut out from his life. Degraded from his partner to a mere acquaintance he left behind.

She had craved him so much. Looking at him, hearing his voice, his smile warming her very soul. She had longed for the privilege she had never owned- touching him, taking his touch. She had been aglow with missing him. It had pricked her like a million needles, every minute, every day.

She couldn't leave him out there in a freaking three-piece-suit. Stubborn man.

She made some brisk preparations before she opened the door.

"Are you claustrophobic, Jane?"

He turned and looked at her.

"No. Why?"

She sighed.

"You can sleep inside the compartment above the cockpit. I don't like climbing up there, so it's free."

He smiled and got up slowly, brushing the dust off his pants.

"I'm afraid I got a little dirt…"

"Yeah, no problem, you can use the shower, too."

She turned and led the way, every step strangely insecure. She had no idea where this road would take them, but she already sensed that she wouldn't get rid of him, that he was here to stay. Her heart gave a traitorous little jump.

But she shouldn't allow herself to get wrapped up in childish dreams again, when the fall had hurt so much the first time around.

She listened to the sounds he made behind her, keeping herself busy with preparing tea. He had brought a big, shiny new backpack, and out of the corner of her eyes she saw him retrieve his clothes, smoothing out the creases. She loved his hands. Loved that he was here, sharing her space. Loved him. She closed her eyes in desperation, scolding herself. No. She couldn't fall for him again.

She almost laughed out loud. Truth was, she had never fallen out of love, and her heart ached for him.

Damn.

She felt him looking at her before he entered the shower, but averted her eyes, not ready to meet his gaze yet. She heard the water running, trying to stop her mind from imagining him naked, his hands sliding over his body…

Double damn.

This was a disaster, and she couldn't even believe that it actually happened to her.

When he left the shower, dressed in one of his old-fashioned pajamas, his shiny blond curls still damp, she sensed that he wanted to talk, which was the essence of what she didn't want.

"You should go to sleep," she whispered, "it has been a long day."

He hesitated, but finally nodded in defeat.

"Goodnight, Teresa."

She nodded, her voice only a small flush of air inside her throat. She watched him climb the latter to the cramped compartment, giving a small sigh when he wrapped himself inside the two blankets she had left for him.

She just stood there for a moment, before she undressed in the darkness and crawled into the spacious bunk at the end of the van.

Sleep was not an easy task that night. She almost thought she could hear his breath, and the horrors and pain around her memories were as hot as lava.

Red John, dead. Jane, a killer once again, bloody hands, broken eyes. And she had let him walk. After that, nothing was as it had been, Jane distancing himself more and more, smiling at her with this creepy, apologetic smile all the time, being so far away she could hardly reach him. He had refused to talk to her, stopped participating in the cases. And one day, she had looked for him inside his attic, and he had been gone. Just like that. The only goodbye she got a flaming red rose on her desk that had to come from him.

She startled from a restless slumber, the sheets and blankets plastered to her overheated body, bright sunlight creeping through the dusty windows. The air had already adopted the day's heat, and she unwrapped herself from the tangle of fabric as fast as she could.

She got up and looked for him, but Jane was gone, his blankets folded neatly on the mattress of his sleeping accommodation. An icy fist seemed to grab her heart, and she gasped for breath. No- not again.

She ripped off her clothes, dropping them where she stood, and entered the shower immediately, turning the water to almost ice cold.

But when she stepped out, dripping wet, wrapped in a large towel, Jane stood in the tiny kitchen, staring at her in wonder.

She was self-conscious there for a second, but changing her mind about it fast. He had invaded her home, so she wouldn't be ashamed here.

"I thought you were gone for good."

He smiled a slightly shaky smile.

"I'm glad you obviously weren't relieved about it."

She sighed, clutching the towel a little tighter.

"So- what have you been up to?"

He lifted a paper bag, filled to the brim.

"I've been shopping for carbohydrates at the bakery. Because you definitely look as if you need something to eat, dear Lisbon."

"Great," she muttered under her breath, turning, knowing she wasn't reasonable at all, "I wear nothing but a towel, and all he notices is that I look starved…"

She crawled onto her bed and pulled the curtain closed behind her, wishing there were a proper door to slam with vigor.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Jane bit his lip to stop the chuckle that threatened to escape. But deep inside, his heart felt full and heavy as if it wanted to burst.

He had to tread lightly, just as Cho had said. For as adorable as Lisbon was, she radiated hurt like a beacon. He had dealt an enormous blow when he had left her, without explaining himself, without saying goodbye. But after the last encounter with Red John, who had deliberately created a scenario in which Jane had to kill him without any obvious excuse of self-defense, thus forcing Lisbon to decide between the law and him, a happily ever after had been the last thing on his mind. She had let him walk.

"Go, Jane."

Her words, whispered like a benediction, had echoed in his mind all these months. The last declaration of her love for him. She had betrayed all her principles for him, and that he had always believed she would do it didn't make it less powerful.

He looked to her sleeping area, longing melting his gaze. The curtain was drawn shut, he heard her rummaging behind it, and it comforted him on a level close to his soul.

He shut his eyes. He felt a strong, keen desire for her that made keeping his distance a lot harder than it should have been. All night he had wished he could crawl into her bed and hold her, let her feel the beating of his hungry heart, thundering for her inside its cavity where she had made it swell twice its size, ripe with love and need.

After he had killed Red John, he had just wanted to vanish. Now, he wanted to heal, and she was the beginning and end of that. He would devote his whole life to her, but he had to give her time.

She could still throw him out. And he needed to stay close to her.

When she emerged from what little private space her new home granted her, she looked calm and composed, but very different, dressed in a tank top and shorts, no bra, no shoes, carrying a sense of freedom and relief that appealed to him greatly. But the pain made her shy, like a wounded animal, and he couldn't risk touching her, not now. He had to wait.

Forcing a smile, he presented the basket with baked goods, filled to overflowing. Lisbon bit her lip to stop a grin, and the sight alone made him deepen his smile, its energy flowing freely now, the false cheerfulness replaced by something real. Only she could do this. His salvation after all these years.

"Let's eat outside," she said," I always do."

He nodded and helped her set the table. She looked at the sky, subtly darkening at the edge of her vision.

"We'll have a thunderstorm later, then we're stuck. We can sit inside or escape to the village before the rain hits."

There was a heavy silence between them for several minutes, but he had no trouble staying calm. He knew she would break it eventually. But when she did, her voice was soft and tiny, torn between pain and reason.

"When will you leave, Jane?"

He firmed his stance.

"I won't."

"You have to."

He wanted to touch her, put his fingers beneath her chin, make her look at him. Bring her luscious lips into his reach, seal their fate. But he didn't dare to.

"No matter what you do, Lisbon, no matter how much you want me to… I won't go. I can't. All my thinking, all my searching came down to this, I'm sorry. I can't live with myself. But I can live with you. If you throw me out, I'll follow you."

"I need you to go, Jane."

"Why?"

She made a tiny, desperate sound deep in her throat.

"Why did you leave without a word, Jane?"

He sighed, his body prickling with shame and longing.

"I… I needed to reclaim my life, Lisbon. I didn't even know who I was anymore. And- I didn't know if you still wanted me. You've seen what I've done. You let me walk, Lisbon. Why?"

"Because I love you, you idiot. You know that."

Warmth spread through him, making nerve endings burn.

"You shouldn't do that, Lisbon."

She turned and glared at him.

"Wait- you're forcing yourself on me, but I can't love you?"

He slowly shook his head.

"I'm doing this for me. I'm a selfish bastard, Lisbon. I'm here because I can't live without you, surprise, surprise. But you shouldn't love me. You should slap me and push me away."

She groaned and turned away again, wrapping her arms around her slim torso. She had lost weight, definitely, and he didn't like it.

"I'm trying to do that," she muttered, "but you're not letting me."

"Will you throw me out?" He whispered.

"No."

He came closer, but still didn't dare to touch her. His skin felt fevered with the need to melt against her, feel her warmth, the beating of her heart close to his. It was all he wanted, his sole reason for everything, the answer he had been looking for, right here, with her.

"You can take from me whatever you want, Lisbon. No limits, no boundaries. My belongings, my time, me. It's all I can give you, and it's not much. But I'm giving it, for the chance of doing this trip with you."

She looked at him.

"Who says I'm taking a trip here?"

He grinned.

"Believe me, you will."

She growled low in her chest.

"Will you go once the trip is over?"

He shook his head firmly.

"No. Sorry, Lisbon. You're stuck with me for good."

"What if it's another guy I want?"

"You haven't seen me love sick, Lisbon. It's not beautiful."

"That's true, I haven't seen that," she snorted, and the pain in her voice flowed into his fingertips like an electric current, "I haven't even seen you in love."

He grimaced.

"Ouch, Lisbon. You know I love you. Don't you?"

Her eyes were liquid, greenish sunshine, but the darkness swallowed them whole. He could see it- she had no idea how much he loved her. Had doubted his feelings all the time. Ouch indeed. His obsession had destroyed a lot.

"I have a lot of work to do then." He said softly. "Let's eat, starved little princess. I need to feed you."

TBC

_Next chapter up TOMORROW! Again, thank you for reading- by the way: it gets a lot more M in chapter 5..._


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, here's the next chapter! I'm VERY sorry to tell you that the build-up will take me longer- we'll get to boiling point in chapter 6, but I hope 5 doesn't disappoint either. HOPE!_

_Thank you so much for your kind words! _

_Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist", and I don't make money from fan fiction._

Ch.4

The rain hit fast after they had finished their breakfast, but Jane made it clear that he didn't mind being stuck inside the motor home with her. He told her about his tropical hideaway, and how he had missed her. How he had learned that Bertram had fired her. How he had found her.

"Doesn't sound as if Derek likes you very much." Lisbon grinned.

Jane chuckled.

"He has no reason to. I hurt you. I'm a thoroughly bad guy."

Lisbon sighed.

"It's complicated. Life is not as black and white as we would like sometimes."

"Amen, Reverend."

She slapped his arm, and he felt himself giggling, a strange kind of carefree pleasure he wasn't used to any longer. He wanted closer.

His back started to ache, and he squirmed a little in his cramped position. She noticed immediately, and he saw a soft sense of unease spreading, following by the now usual throwing caution to the wind. He had noticed that about her immediately when he had seen her again: what had happened had no doubt changed her, had given her a sense of the devil my care attitude he knew so well. Teresa Lisbon was at least partly done with being nice and proper and controlled. This one was ready to take risks, and it thrilled him.

She looked him square in the eye.

"So… do we lie down on my bed? No funny stuff, though!"

He smiled.

"Of course not. Yes, I would like that."

She got up slowly and walked to her sleeping area, slipping into the bunk first. He followed, scooting to the utmost edge of her mattress, not wanting to crowd or scare her.

"Are you afraid?" He whispered.

She nodded slowly.

"Very afraid of losing the rest of me, the sorry remains I still have."

"Can I do something?"

She sighed.

"How about not scramming this time?"

It was the first time she had voiced that she wanted him to stay, and it made him feel foolishly happy. So happy he felt physically restless again, she was so close, so warm, her small body looking delicious, touchable, everything he desired. His head buzzed with longing, he had never wanted something so bad as he wanted her right now, and that was saying something. The need was like electricity, sending little sparks out he wanted to lick from her skin, his frame trembling with lust.

"Can I touch you?" He asked softly.

It was silent for a few moments.

"No." she said, but she scooted closer, putting her front against his, her head against his chest. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her, fighting to keep his cock flaccid by using the most vigorous bio-feedback he had ever administered. If he grew an erection against her abdomen now, he would destroy the moment. He couldn't risk it. He buried his face in her soft, fragrant hair, inhaling deeply, letting the rich dark tresses caress his lips. He would kiss her, soon, he knew it. He imagined her tongue sliding against his and had to clench his fists to keep his blood from surging into his lower body.

But no matter what- he wouldn't stop holding her.

Xxxxxxxxxx

He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, and her tenderness for him was actually frightening. It filled her like fine mist, part of her essence although she had spent months trying to get rid of these feelings, be free of him again. No, that wasn't quite true, she hadn't been that naïve- she had envisioned herself as her own social project, had tried to analyze her grief as if that had made it easier to bear.

She gently rubbed her fingertips through the stubble on his chin, very careful not to wake him. He had turned onto his back, and she smoothed her hand over his front, the soft fabric of his clothes brushing her skin like a kiss. She pressed her lips against his neck, just a feather-like touch, but it made her tremble with delight. Damn, she was lost. It was almost dark outside and a lot cooler now, so she had covered both of them with a blanket, snuggling close to him to contain body warmth. It was a lot more effective than what she usually did to fight off the chill, and she sighed with contentment.

She should probably try to get some rest, but it was surprisingly hard. It was late when she finally sank into a dreamless sleep, entering her mind like a dizzying fog.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, his voice roused her from a shallow slumber.

"Let's go elsewhere, Lisbon."

She swallowed to chase away the sleepiness, but the success was unremarkable.

"Huh?"

His fingers were caressing her cheek, and she felt an aroused blush spread wherever he touched, making the cobwebs of her drowsiness disappear.

"Let's take our… your motor home and go somewhere else," he whispered, "wherever you want. Let's explore. There are so many things I'd like to see, with you. What do you think?"

She hummed softly.

"I can't really live big," she whispered, "I have money, but it has to last a long while, maybe the rest of my life, so I'm careful with doing too much risky exploring."

"Meh… you have a MOTOR HOME, Lisbon. What's the sense of that if you don't move it? And, don't worry about money, ever again. I'll care for you, in every aspect."

She snorted.

"As if I need a provider…"

"It doesn't matter if you need one- you got yourself one. Where do you want to go?"

She thought for a moment.

"I don't know- someplace where it's warmer at night. Even now in winter."

"Florida?"

She groaned.

"Oh god, Florida is awfully far away."

"We'll go there slowly… we could stop in Santa Fe and Texas- enjoy the ocean. See New Orleans. Oh please, please, please, Lisbon, let's!"

She sighed.

"Okay. Whatever you want."

"I like the sound of that…"

She slapped his chest, but he just pulled her closer, chuckling into her ear. His lips caressed her temples, teasing her softly, and she didn't feel the slightest urge to stop him, burrowing deeper into the delicious warmth of his body.

When she woke up again, it was past noon, and she felt as rested and peaceful as she hadn't in years. She got up, stretching languidly, and smiled at Jane who was busy in the kitchen.

He smiled back, his honest, full-fledged smile that never failed to get her weak in the knees.

"Breakfast… or lunch is ready. But I'm afraid you have to eat alone, my dear Lisbon. I have important errands to run. But I'll be back before dinnertime, I promise."

He came closer and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, lingering a second before he pulled away, making the caress far more than just a peck.

"Eat something," he said, "please. Don't make me worry about you, Teresa. I love you."

A violent shudder ran through her body, but before she could say anything, he had grabbed his jacket and was out the door.

She just stood there for the better part of an hour, stunned, a warm glow covering her inside and out. Then she started missing him, severely exasperated with herself.

She ate a few bites just to humor him and sat in front of the motor home for a while, watching the Canyon that managed to look quiet and majestic despite the hordes of tourists travelling here, wondering what Jane was up to. But as hard as it was to admit it: losing her job had eased her worries. Life seemed to make sense for the first time, which was strange in itself since work had defined her whole existence. Now it was gone, and she found that there was another Lisbon beneath the old one, and she couldn't say she didn't like it. She inhaled the dusty air and leaned back, acknowledging grudgingly that Jane had a lot to do with this new sense of freedom.

She shouldn't allow herself to love him, though. What if…

Oh damn, whom was she kidding. She did. Love pulsed inside of her like a separate, blood filled artery, a part of her that existed just for him.

I love him. I want him. I don't know how long I'll be able to resist him. Why would I even want to resist him, for god's sake? Life was too short.

She rubbed over her naked arms and saw that it was late afternoon already. Where the hell was Jane?

After a moment of indecisiveness, she decided to go looking for him.

The village was full and busy, she greeted some people she knew and searched in all the little shops, the petrol station, even at the small museum and the library. Finding Jane nowhere, she ended up in the bar, meeting a relaxed Derek who seemed delighted to see her.

"Damn, girl, I've been worried sick. Is he behaving?"

She sighed.

"He is. You did the right thing, Derek. Jane and I, we… we needed to talk stuff out, clear the air between us."

He smiled.

"You look damn happy."

Lisbon grinned, from ear to ear, and it was so easy it made her light-headed.

"I am, isn't that crazy?"

Derek chuckled and took a swig from his beer bottle.

"So, you're leaving, huh?"

"How do you know?"

"Your beau has been announcing it all day, everywhere he went. Half of the village already loves him to pieces- and the other part wants to kill him."

"Yeah, that's him alright. Yes, looks as if we're leaving."

He nodded.

"I'm gonna miss you, Teresa. You just take care."

Lisbon looked out the window for a moment, worrying her lower lip.

"He's not a bad guy, Derek. His family was killed by a serial killer a decade ago- wife and little daughter. He spent the whole time hunting the murderer down, and it almost destroyed him. After that he… he just needed time. Yes, I was heartbroken. But he came back. And I start to trust him again."

"Damn," Derek growled, "I didn't know that. Poor soul."

Lisbon nodded, fighting against unwelcome memories of how the tale had ended. It had ended. That was all that counted.

"He sure as hell can take care of you," Derek said, smiling, "went right after the big bucks, your guy."

Lisbon's eyebrows went up.

"Oh no, what did he do?"

"He's playing, in there." Derek nodded in the direction of the counter, "little room where they play poker every afternoon. And he sure as hell has the big wigs with him."

Before he had finished the sentence, Lisbon had jumped off her stool, marching off on a brisk stride. She pulled the little curtain of the room behind the counter open and slipped inside, nobody bothering to stop her.

The scene seemed harmless enough, and she relaxed a little. Jane had shed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and the rumpled state of his clothing and hair suggested that he'd been at it all afternoon. Three guys sat at the table with him, all carrying the aura of influence and money. Nobody seemed to carry a weapon, at least not on first sight. Jane's companions looked more lethargic than aggressive, so she hoped they weren't among the ones who wanted to kill him… yet.

Jane looked at her with fake surprise.

"Hey, honey."

He was role playing, she could see it, the droopy eyelids, slurred voice, portraying a most likely alcoholic idiot everyone could beat at poker. She swallowed her grin and decided not to blow his cover.

"Hey. Whatcha doing?"

"Just a little game, sweetie, with these gentlemen here. I'll be over soon."

She shrugged. Fine, she would let him play. For another hour or so.

"Okay."

Turning to go, she heard his voice.

"Kiss?"

She faced him again, eyebrows pulled up in puzzlement.

"What?"

"Oh come on, Terry, don't be like that. I said I'm sorry about a million times, what else do you want? Please, you know I always lose when you are mad at me and give me the cold shoulder. Just a kiss, yes?"

Terry? She glared at him. So he actually tried to blackmail her into kissing him, this obnoxious little pest? Well, let's see if she couldn't make him at least a little uncomfortable.

Smiling sweetly, she approached him slowly.

"How could I be mad at you," she whispered, leaning down, "when you look at me like this, with your adorable puppy dog eyes?"

She pressed her lips onto his, not giving him a second to catch his breath before she pushed her tongue into his mouth, plundering the delicious warmth she found for all it was worth. He tasted sweet and clean, and she sucked his breath deep into her lungs, pushing her hands into his hair to angle his head for even deeper penetration. He kissed her back passionately, moaning into her mouth every time she let her tongue slide against his, waking nerve endings that soared with pleasure. She let her fingers glide over his chest, blocking his game partners' view with her body when she touched him lower, brushing her fingertips over his crotch. He was rock hard. Good.

Breaking the kiss, she reveled in his disappointed little whimper, smiling at him when he blindly groped for another kiss with his now empty mouth, trying to lure her back. His lips were kiss-swollen, wet and red. Very sexy. Good thing god had made her a female, at least SHE could get out of here right now with her dignity intact.

She straightened and walked to the door, giving her backside an enticing little sway with every step. Just before she left the room, she turned, looking directly at Jane.

"Don't be late, darling. Dinner is ready at eight."

With a smug little grin, she closed the curtain behind her.

xxxxxxxxxx

Jane was back ten minutes before eight.

"Did you win?" Lisbon asked, smiling.

He put his jacket on the bench and stretched, a sight she would never tire of.

"I did. Not that your little stunt in there helped much."

She shrugged innocently.

"You were asking for a kiss."

He grinned sheepishly and sat down at the table.

"Yeah, sorry for that. I couldn't resist."

"How much did you win?"

"500,000 dollars."

She almost dropped the pot she was handling.

"What?"

He smiled brightly and took a sip of the ice cold beer she had put on the table.

"Anything you want me to buy you, missy? I'm in a very generous mood today."

"500,000 dollars? Who in hell has 500,000 dollars in this place?"

"Many rich outcasts here, baby. Trust your old man to find the richest."

She glared at him.

"You can stop the act now, Mr. Harmless Redneck, I get it."

Jane chuckled and took another swig from the bottle, and why she found that so sexy, would forever elude her. And why had she prepared his favorite dinner, for god's sake? She should have given him a thorough kick instead!

Just when she had pushed her rage to boiling point, he stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her body, pressing kisses onto her bare shoulders.

"Sorry for the kiss," he whispered, "I wanted one so much. But I shouldn't have done it. Not there, not then. Sorry."

She could hardly talk when he touched her like this, his fingers brushing over her lower abdomen, making need gush all over her most sensitive parts, getting her hot and bothered in seconds.

"Jane…" she choked.

"I know," he whispered, his soft lips playing with her ear lobe, "you don't want me."

She almost laughed out loud. Didn't want him? She wanted him so much she would catch fire any minute, and she knew he knew it.

"I need more time," she whispered.

"You have all the time in the world, Teresa. Just forgive me for wanting you so damn much."

He pressed her a little tighter before he released her with a regretful sigh, instantly making her want him back.

"I made Sicilian meatballs," she said, "your favorite."

He grinned.

"I love you, my little hausfrau."

Lisbon slapped his chest, hard, but she couldn't help smiling.

"YOU cook tomorrow, is that clear?"

He chuckled.

"It will be my pleasure, ma'am."

She shook her head in mock exasperation.

How was it even possible that she was so happy now- when she had been so sad not long ago? The human soul was a strange thing, Lisbon thought while she hummed gently, happy songs she hadn't thought of in years filling her heart.

She looked out of the window, watching the angry sky, inflamed by a bloody sun.

Tomorrow, they would leave.

TBC

_Next chapter: tomorrow!_


	5. Chapter 5

_See- now it happened. I was very reluctant to start posting this story, because I really don't have much writing time at the moment, and now I reached the point where I can't manage daily updates any more- I'm so sorry, but I'm terribly busy and can't write half as often as I would want to! I hope to get something done over the weekend, but though I started chapter 6, it's not finished yet- I apologize! For the time being, here's chapter 5, and I'm going to post chapter 6 as soon as I can… but it will most likely be Sunday. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I promise I'll be as fast as I can._

_Thank you for sticking with me, and thank you so much for the feedback!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist", and I don't make money from fan fiction._

Ch. 5

Her eyes seemed much too big for her face, pools of dark green, open and vulnerable.

Lisbon sighed at her own reflection in the tiny mirror over the sink. She had changed. Her happiness felt alien to her, the sadness miles away, but there was a core of torn confusion that didn't let her sleep. She was used to being scared, insecurity had framed her all these years. Always wondering about his feelings. About this thin thread that still tied him and her to normal life, to a future worth waiting for. But she'd had always been the strong one, and she'd hated how visible her feelings were on her face. No matter what she'd tried to tell herself- she knew she couldn't lie. For someone like Patrick Jane, she was easy prey.

Splashing cold water on her face, she tried to regain her focus, find a line between old grief, hope and the perpetual arousal he evoked in her. Combined with the all-encompassing feeling of being in love. It was there, she could feel it, in a way she had never felt it before him. It was as if this emotion was entirely his, something she would never have been able to experience with anybody but him.

She still called him Jane, because for her, that was his name. And he called her Lisbon with this melting voice that made it sound like the sweetest of endearments.

She swallowed. Time to leave the bathroom.

Jane waited in front of the motor home, his face a mixture of worry and delight. She nodded reassuringly, and he extended his arm, wrapping it around her waist when she slipped into his hold, safely tucking her against his side.

"Are you alright, Lisbon?"

His voice was soft and gentle, she wanted to bathe in it.

"Yes. I'm fine."

He turned and pulled her into a full hug, clutching her so tight she could hardly breathe. It felt wonderful. He buried his face in her hair, and every little ounce of pressure seemed to translate into bone-melting pleasure, until she was nothing but a happy puddle in his arms. He still didn't release her, and when he even tightened his hold, she felt something against her abdomen- the unmistakable ridge of his erection. She stiffened, everything stopping for a moment. She felt him going very still, his breath loud in the quiet. He was waiting, expectantly.

Lisbon went with her instincts, letting her hands glide over his buttocks, pulling him closer. Jane released a pent-up breath, she felt his frame tremble against her, and they sighed in unison.

She sensed his reluctance when he finally released her, and he coughed to relieve some of the tension, which was very unlike him. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

"Ready to say goodbye?"

She nodded. They walked to the little village, silent most of the time, but in the middle of their trip, Jane took her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the backs of her fingers.

Derek was still a little suspicious of Jane, but he was nicer since he had learned his backstory and even shook his hand when they said goodbye, accompanying it with a gruff sound of "I'm basically okay with you".

He hugged Teresa, visibly sad to see her go, but obviously used to it- most people didn't stay half as long as he did, so he frequently saw them come and go.

"Get lucky, girl," he said with a smile, "and if there are problems- you know how to find me."

He lifted his slightly battered cell phone, and Lisbon nodded. She hugged Lorna next, who outright refused to acknowledge Jane, but was teary-eyed and reluctant to let go of Teresa. Lisbon smiled a sad smile- those two were the only ones here she'd had a closer connection with, and it had saved her when things had seemed beyond repair.

She was tired and silent when they left the Canyon, and for once glad that Jane had offered to drive. It was early evening, and the light gave the desert a burnt red color, translating into the sky.

Her eyelids started to droop more and more, and before she really noticed, she found herself in the bullpen, once again calling Jane's name. Darkness surrounded her, inky and black, and unease spread inside of her while she searched every room, niches and spaces she knew so well. When she came to the attic it was completely empty, not a hint of Jane remaining, just dust and empty surfaces. She turned, sad and desperate, and couldn't find a door- it had vanished, just like that, caging her inside the dusty emptiness. She opened her mouth to scream, but before the sound emerged, she heard a soft voice.

"Lisbon… Teresa, my sweet, wake up."

Startling awake, she saw Jane half-kneeling next to her, his hand brushing through her hair. He smiled gently.

"You fell asleep, and your dreams weren't nice, obviously. We should stop here for the night, you need a good rest."

She nodded drowsily and got up from her seat. He was right, she urgently needed to get out of her cramped position, her neck and shoulders were aching, her legs stiff.

Jane let her use the bathroom first, but once she emerged in her sleeping clothes, he was by her side, gently tucking her in once she had climbed into her bed, stroking her hair to calm her down. It felt so nice Lisbon sighed in pleasure and snuggled a little closer, pushing her nose against his chest.

He kissed her hair in the by now almost familiar sign of affection.

"Goodnight, sweet Teresa- sleep well."

But when he was about to get up, it just felt wrong, and she wasn't ready to tolerate that any longer, not in this new life, where she was supposed to take risks and live out loud for a change.

"Stay," she whispered, and he stopped mid-motion.

It was very silent for a few seconds, but she could hear his breathing, rapid, harsh. Maybe he was aroused again and had pulled back because of that. But she didn't care. Was strangely okay with it, ready to face what was between them, look it straight in the eye. Hiding had no worth any longer, and freedom seemed close for the first time.

"Are you sure, Lisbon?"

She wondered what she had signed up for, but urgently needed to find out for herself.

"Yes, I'm sure."

She almost felt his subtle nod in the pitch darkness, but he got up anyway. When she heard the door of the tiny bathroom clap, she breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, she didn't want to sleep alone, on her own with her nightmares, still and cold.

He was back fast, sliding under her covers, the softer fabric touching her skin telling her he had changed into his pajamas. He stayed on the outer edges of the mattress, but it wasn't exactly what she wanted, so she pulled on his clothes to bring him closer.

He growled softly.

"Uhm… Lisbon… I… well, I'm just a man and I really want you, so- you should know that my… arousal is a physical reaction and not a request. I'm perfectly fine with waiting, but I can't really control this, at least not if I plan to fall asleep. So- if you want to sleep in my arms, you'll have to ignore it, okay?"

In his arms. That sounded beyond wonderful, and she hummed happily.

"Sure. To be honest, it feels kind of nice."

He groaned.

"Oh yes, you just go on torturing me, woman, I deserve it…"

She chuckled cruelly, and he pulled her close, trembling when she put her leg over his hip, increasing the contact even more.

Lisbon couldn't sleep like this. She felt his hardness, pressing into her abdomen, and it made her needy and wanton, her lust for him a searing flame that kept her awake. It was almost midnight before exhaustion won out, and she fell asleep. Her dreams were different this time, hot and hard, a body's relentless pressure on hers, Jane's lips on her face, teasing her mouth into opening, his tongue playing with hers. She spread her legs with a sigh, arching her hips against his, wrapping her hand around his towering erection to guide him…

"Lisbon! Lisbon, no, you'll make me come in my pants!"

Her eyes snapped open. Shock invaded her system like a drug, making her head buzz. She had pushed her hand down the front of his pants, indeed wrapping her fingers around his rock-hard length. She pulled back as if burned, scooting to the outer edge of her bed.

"God, Jane, I'm so sorry…"

He panted, rubbing his hand over his face repeatedly.

"It's… it's okay, I just… I need a moment, okay?"

He almost jumped out of bed and was inside the bathroom before she could say anything, the lock clicking shut with a noise that seemed loud in the silence. Lisbon buried her face in her pillow and groaned for all she was worth. What had she done? And- why had he stopped her, for god's sake? He'd said he wanted her, hadn't he? She curled into a ball, trying to make herself as small as possible. When had her life gotten such a complicated, obscure mess of doubts and longing?

She heard him open the bathroom door and step out, hesitating for a moment. Then he slowly walked through the van and climbed the ladder to the sleeping bunk over the driver's seat.

Lisbon wanted to cry. Her feelings burned inside her like wildfire, and she had nowhere to put them. But as the sleepless night progressed, resolve spread through her. She was done with dancing around him like a shy virgin. Hell, she was done dancing around her LIFE. She would take what she wanted. So all she had to do was find out what she really wanted and make it happen. In the darkness, she searched her way to her favorite spot- in front of the bathroom mirror. Facing her own, pretty determined reflection in the dim shine of a flashlight, she let her thoughts run.

Was she ready to commit to him… once and for all? Not even with Greg had she consciously faced a forever. But the love she felt for Jane was different from anything she'd ever felt, and this greedy wildness had raged inside her for the better part of a decade. She had tried to ignore it, and it hadn't worked. But she had been willing to confront her grief when he'd been gone, she hadn't hidden anything then.

She was ready.

She wanted him. Wanted a future, wanted all the complications and fights this would bring. She would overcome all the obstacles, because it was what she needed to do. What she wanted more than anything in her life.

She switched off the flashlight and stepped out, casting a last longing glance towards where he was sleeping now. She could do that. She loved him. He would be hers.

Wrapping herself inside the blankets, she closed her eyes and tried to will herself into dreaming something nice.

Xxxxxxxxxx

After a miserable, sleepless night, Jane got up with a deep sense of doom inside his heart. He couldn't wait to hit the shower and was glad Lisbon wasn't awake yet and couldn't beat him to it.

He chose the temperature as cold as he could stand and let the iciness wash into him, allowing it to cool him down. When he stepped out, he felt considerably better. Looking for Lisbon, he found her still asleep, wrapped inside the sheets like a little groundhog. Smiling tenderly, he decided to get something to eat before she woke up.

There was a little village nearby, so he would take the stroll and see what he could find. He had chosen the smaller roads for their journey, driving through the charming little towns instead of using the large highways, because he loved watching the people, nature's ways, everyday life. Lisbon had been so exhausted that she had been napping most of the time, and he had let her.

Lisbon. He shuddered when he thought about last night, and used some brisk maneuvers to keep his body outwardly disinterested. He knew he needed to reassure her fast, already regretting to have left her all alone, deal with the fallout herself. But she had no idea what she had done… he'd been so hot he'd almost done something unforgivable, so close to going berserk on her, pushing her onto her back and slamming into her before she… he groaned. He couldn't give in to his dark impulses now, not when she was so close to trusting him again. She still didn't know what she wanted of him, and he couldn't risk anything that might make her think she wanted him GONE.

His body lurched violently, demanding contact with her, to be treated to her delicious warmth again.

He found a charming little bakery, bought everything she might like, and walked back as fast as he could.

When he opened the door, Lisbon was already up. He stopped dead in his tracks. She looked… different this morning, and his body stirred before he could put a hold on it.

She wore the most un-Lisbon-like dress he'd ever seen her in, extremely short and flowery and carefree, flowing around her small body as if it were caressing her. Her hair was open, long, shiny, dark tresses that wrapped around her shoulders in soft waves. He swallowed.

Her eyes told him that she expected him to be cautious and leery, but he was determined to surprise her. Putting his paperback down on the table, he walked over to her on a firm stride, grabbing her shoulders to pull her close. He kissed her forehead before he gently rubbed his nose against hers, her sweet mouth so close he couldn't resist a small peck. She tasted like chocolate-dipped cherries, her moist lips sticking to his, and all he could do was stopping his inward tremble from showing on the outside. Two steps, and he could push her against the counter, sliding inside her until he could feel the heat of her clutching womb…

He coughed and pulled back.

"Good morning, my dear- I brought food."

She nodded.

"I thought that's what you would be doing."

"We need to go grocery shopping- we're not far from Santa Fe now. Do you want to sleep inside a hotel for a night or two once we get there?"

"No," she said, "I want to stay here. This is mine, I feel safe here."

He nodded and pulled her close, enfolding her in a tight hug.

"Will you let me treat you to a fancy dinner at a restaurant?"

She turned her head and kissed his earlobe, making him shudder and go hard immediately. But when he would have pulled back, she stopped him, putting both hands on his butt, pressing him closer.

"If it's Mexican, I'm in."

She released him, and he was hurting all over.

"Well," he said hoarsely, "I'm pretty certain I can find some Mexican food for you in Santa Fe."

She chuckled, looking at him over her shoulder, and damn, was she close to being bent over the table…

She hardly touched her breakfast, which worried him very much. How could he get some food into this tiny woman? She let him drive, gladly as it seemed, and he was happy for the distraction from her much too short skirt, scooting upwards when she pushed her bare feet against the glove compartment. Hell.

"That's terribly dangerous, Lisbon."

She smiled.

"What can I say? I developed a taste for living on the edge lately."

"Not on my watch. Feet down."

He didn't notice the irony of their reversed roles until he saw her grin. Damn, she brought him out of tact swiftly.

She took her feet down, whistling happily. He was glad when they reached Santa Fe and found a large supermarket on the edge of town.

Jane loved going shopping, no matter if he bought clothes or groceries, but Lisbon unnerved him a little. Or, more correct, the male attention she attracted unnerved him. Had she been his, he wouldn't have minded, but instead been proud of his gorgeous woman. But since she wasn't- yet, he mentally added- every lecherous guy was a rival, and after ten minutes, he wanted to kill them all.

Lisbon was like a brilliant butterfly, fluttering here and there, but her barely suppressed excitement indicated that she felt touchy-feely and didn't allow herself to indulge. Oh, how he wanted to turn this into a full-fledged seduction right now, starting with him pushing his hand under that outrageously short skirt, finding out what she wore underneath… but he restrained himself. She called the shots here. When she was ready to touch- he was right here.

He tried to guess what she would like him to buy, an easy task. Lisbon didn't like fancy gifts and men who bought their women's favor, so his job was to find out which kind of foods she would like to eat- not hard after more than a decade of watching her.

He stopped in front of an oversized barbecue.

"Tell me, do we have something like this?"

Lisbon groaned, hands on her hips in the perfect cop-stance.

"No. And guess who hates sitting in front of a barbecue waiting for hours and hours only to face eating a whole COW afterwards."

Jane smiled.

"Let's buy just a little grill then- much faster. And we can put vegetables on it. Hmm?"

She smiled.

"Remember- YOU cook."

"I can't wait."

While Lisbon searched for some personal items she needed, Jane strolled through the aisles, when his eyes caught a box of condoms. He took it from the shelf, pondering if he should buy it, when Lisbon's firm voice stopped him.

"No."

He pouted. This was the clearest rejection she had showed him so far, and although he knew buying the box in front of her was neither tactful nor subtle, it hurt. But fine, he would wait. Dutifully putting the condoms back, he decided to return to business as usual as fast as possible, hard as it was.

A while later, he had stored the groceries and held the passenger's door open for Lisbon, when she leaned over and whispered into his ear:

"You know, I don't like condoms. I like making a MESS."

The way she said the last word made the blood surge into his genitals as if a dam had been broken.

Lisbon slipped into the passenger's seat and closed the door while he still stood there, open-mouthed, speechless.

When he finally regained a fraction of his senses, he slowly walked around the motor home and entered on his side, clutching the steering wheel to stop himself from simply grabbing the smug little woman next to him. He didn't dare to look at her.

When he spoke, his voice was as hoarse as if he'd downed a whole bottle of whiskey.

"Where do we park the van?"

She sighed and put her bare feet against the damn glove department again.

"Someplace without people."

TBC

_I SWEAR, the next chapter will be properly M-rated, but I had too much fun making Jane suffer to stop this- sorry! Next chapter will be up as soon as possible- I'm already on it, and there's a weekend ahead!_


	6. Chapter 6

_SORRY! I know you waited very long for this, and I apologize for not finishing the chapter earlier, but there's so much going on right now, and my "the hiatus is almost up"- depression isn't helping anything… I'm craving and scared of spoilers at the same time, and somehow, that's not a nice feeling. I can't stop thinking how MUCH I want Jane and Lisbon to happen, and I'm an awful pessimist, which is never a good combination… meh._

_Only 27 days, can you believe it? Oh my god. I just hope Jane and Lisbon won't be fighting all season, it would break my little heart… well, maybe I should stop blabbering and let you read this chapter! _

_Warning: IT IS TOTALLY M! If you don't like the down and dirty in a fan fic, this is the right point to get the hell out! Hope you like it, though- I have a hard time writing at the moment, so I apologize again… there is not much happening in this chapter but that Jane and Lisbon finally DO IT, so don't expect any plot here… there is none __._

_Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist", and I don't make money from fan fiction._

Ch.6

Cooling down wasn't an easy task with Lisbon so close in tiny shorts and a tank top. Jane had put a deck chair in front of the van and tried to relax, put things into perspective.

He had stored the groceries, cleaned up a little, given her time and space, although he suspected that might not be what she wanted. He felt her want as if she had told him about it, an omnipotent presence between them, heady and ripe. He sighed.

"What about your Mexican food, Lisbon? You ready for that?"

She surprised him again, maybe because touching still felt so alien after all the years of restraint. She effortlessly slid into his arms, gracefully folding her lithe body onto his lap, pressing her chest against his like a little kitten looking for affection. He put his arms around her, enjoying that he could finally do so, that somehow, they had reached this state. She was warm and soft and he knew it would be hard to release her once she insisted he'd do so. He inhaled her scent, letting it wrap around his senses. Heaven.

"I don't want to go out, Jane," she said, "can't we stay here? I don't want to see a soul, just you. It's so beautiful here."

That was true. He had found a secluded spot close to the river where they wouldn't encounter anyone. He understood that Lisbon was hoarse from fighting, needing, missing, worrying. That she wanted absolute peace, simplicity, a home she carried with her like a little snail would, and endless stretches of solitude. The warm, sweet woman in his arms made him heal, and he was totally happy to stay alone with her.

"No problem, Teresa. We can stay here as long as you want. Why don't we try the new grill?"

"We don't have any meat."

It was so distracting when she rubbed her cheek against his like this.

"We have an interesting choice of vegetables. I'll do some magic with them."

She looked at him. Her lips were so close, slightly parted, like an invitation. He held his breath, then took some frantic huffs of air, wanting more, wanting everything, his grip tightening on her body. When her lips met his, just a brush, he almost lost consciousness. She savored the kiss, deepening it slowly, pushing her tongue into every crevice of his mouth, collecting as much of his taste as she could. Her hands framed his face, and every touch, every caress was highlighted as if through a magnifying glass, wild, brilliant, in glorious Technicolor.

"I want to bathe in the ocean." She whispered into his mouth.

He nodded, careful not to severe the contact.

"Me, too."

"Let's start going there tomorrow, yes? Let's drive and drive until we reach the shore."

"Whatever you want, Teresa."

She kissed him once more, softly, thoroughly, her lips plundering his mouth inside and out. She pulled his hair to make him offer his face to her, and he went willingly, throwing his head back to give her full access.

She broke the kiss and looked at him, and there was wonder and confusion in her eyes, glistening with many unshed tears. Her voice was hoarse with passion.

"I love you so much."

He felt a big lump forming in his throat, his feelings for her devouring his insides like a wildfire.

"God, Lisbon, I love you, too."

His heart felt full to the brim, and his body throbbed with need. She kissed him a last time before she pulled back.

"We should prepare dinner now, hmm?"

He almost whimpered with pain. He didn't want dinner, he desperately wanted to spill, inside her. Why was she torturing him like this? Damn, he knew it. He had fled last night, and she had suffered because of it. His body begged for her attention, his skin burning from the need to be touched. His self-control was exhausted after years of being reasonable, protecting her through his denial. He couldn't wait a second longer.

He heard her humming softly in the kitchen area and felt like a beast, sex- hungry, unleashed.

She sensed his presence immediately.

"If you want to you can cut the…"

He grabbed her and turned her in his arms, roughly pushing her against the counter, her legs involuntarily spreading to give his hips some room. He was hard, burning hot, and he saw the triumph in her eyes.

He pushed up against her several times, letting her feel how engorged he was for her, making her thud against the counter behind her with every rough shove. The way she pushed her breasts against him, rock hard nipples straining against her shirt, told him how much she wanted this. His shame had made him misread her.

She rubbed up against him even harder.

"Jane- they ache, please."

He put both hands on her breasts, they were small and firm, filling his palms nicely; he kneaded them roughly, making clear he wouldn't go for gentle love-making tonight. She arched against him, and the way she kept licking her lips told him she was up for anything he'd dish out.

"I want you to be mine," he whispered hoarsely, and she pushed her hands into his hair to pull his head down, catching his lips as if she were starving for him.

He kissed her back, fevered, wanton, pushing his tongue so deep her exquisite taste invaded his senses like a drug, making him dizzy with lust.

She was already fumbling with his buttons, and he assisted her by simply ripping them off, not caring for anything but her. Her tank top came apart in his hands, and he buried his face in her breasts with a greedy sound of pleasure, her flesh so soft and firm at the same time.

She pushed her legs up his flanks, relying on him to hold her, thus pressing her crotch against his painfully engorged cock. He roared like a lion, a veil of sheer red obstructing his view, and the last shred of his self-control was gone. He clutched her against his chest, making her gasp with the force of his grip, and hurriedly made the few steps to her bed, his lips feasting on hers as if he would be going mad if he couldn't kiss her.

Her back connected with the mattress roughly, but he couldn't care less, the haze of his lust obliterating everything but the urge to possess her, his hands already busy getting her shorts off. Her panties he simply tore to small shreds.

She gave a low growl of approval and pushed vest and shirt from his shoulders, he impatiently wriggled out of them, but didn't allow her to remove his pants. He just opened his belt and fly and pushed everything down, including his underwear. When his shaft made contact with her soft, wet sex he almost lost his mind. Blowing steam like an enraged bull, he pulled her close, covering her body with his, bringing his throbbing rod into the perfect position. There would be time for finesse later, now he needed to rut like a beast, taking her until she screamed his name.

She pushed her body against his, and he forgot all about apologizing for his roughness, breeching her barrier with a harsh groan. He gasped from the fierce pleasure, she was so hot, as soft as silk, her slick arousal easing his passage, although she was so tight he had to force his entry. It was insanely erotic to feel her stretch for him, spreading her legs as far as she could to accommodate his size, her breath sharp and gasping.

He loved how she touched him, not tentative and tender, but passionately, hungry, her fingernails scratching his skin. He groaned and arched against her, bucking his hips to bring himself deeper. She angled her hips and took all of him, her heat scorching him, making him crave more, more friction, more roughness, more speed.

He kissed her to stall for a moment, his kisses wet and luscious, shivers coating his insides when she gave back in equal manner, fighting, tasting, exploring his mouth eagerly.

"Please, Jane," she whispered hoarsely, "fuck me, please."

He roared like a lion and thrust into her hard, just once, showing her how deep he would go, letting her taste the depth of his penetration. He felt himself press against the mouth of her womb and shuddered, feeling a similar shiver running through her body before she cried out.

Any sense of guilt on his side was fast extinguished by her hoarse demand for more, whispered urgently into his ear, making him frantic and wild. He clutched her hips, knowing he would leave bruises there, and held her still for his onslaught. Every thrust made her soft tissue hotter, the friction enormous, and he set a fast, merciless rhythm that didn't ease up for a second. His muscles strained, but it made him even more eager to take her with all he had, give her what was asking for. Her whole body bounced under his strokes, and he held onto her tight to stop her from hitting her head against the wall. His cock burned, release so close he gasped every time he made impact, and her cries only made him wilder, until he hammered into her full speed, arousal pooling in his lower body, poising him for a desperate release. He pushed up on his forearms and looked down at her, slamming into her again and again, her sheath so tight, tightening even more around him every time he surged forward.

He gritted his teeth, snarling at her, their hips clashing full force until he thought he would explode from sheer lust.

He saw her eyes going wide, her lips parting, and when he pushed himself higher, making sure to thrust from a different angle, he rubbed against her clit even harder and sent her over the edge.

His whole world seemed to contract along with her clenching core, the sucking motion of her womb almost driving him insane. He screamed her name, heard her answering in kind, violent tremors shaking his body. She yelled in abandon, squirming beneath him while he still refused to let up, never slowing his thrusts.

Only when she collapsed beneath him did he pull out, frantically kicking his shoes and pants off before he grabbed her again, turning her onto her stomach before she understood what was happening. His erection throbbed, demanding to spill hard and long, but he wasn't done, still felt the fever rushing through his veins like a dangerous disease. He pulled Lisbon's small body up on all fours and pushed into her again, as deep as he could go, making her come again with a few slow, grinding motions of his hips.

He loved thrusting into her contracting core, her walls closing in on him with their rough grip, making it all the harder to fuck her, all the sweeter, too. She was dripping wet, and he pushed her thighs forward to go even deeper, forcing himself inside her to the hilt before he started pounding her, his own breath rasping inside his lungs. She didn't stop coming. It felt as if she had waited for this for years, had longed and hoped and pent up so much tension it gushed out of her in a single mighty surge, making her erupt into a million stars. Jane felt his balls draw close to his body, preparing to shoot his load in what had to be a flash flood of seed. He closed his eyes, giving her the last hard thrusts before he couldn't move any longer, pressing himself deep while instinct took over. His semen burst from him in long, copious spurts, every single one of them making his stomach contract to the point of pain, and he emptied himself inside her, his violent release triggering another climax from her.

He was shaking all over once he was done, and so tired he absolutely couldn't stay upright. Pulling his semi-hard cock from her white-hot core, he sank down next to her, using the last of his strength to pull her into his arms. She was warm and soft against his chest, and he sighed in pleasure.

"My sweet Lisbon," he whispered, "did I hurt you?"

He didn't hear her answer, because with the next heartbeat, he was fast asleep.

Xxxxxxxxxx

He looked so peaceful, and she wondered if she had ever seen him like this. Free of the dark shadows haunting his features. Nothing but asleep, dreamless, still in his sweet silence. She smiled and snuggled closer for a second, pushing her nose against his bare chest.

She felt a restless bliss, so acute her legs were twitching, and with a little sigh she got up eventually, grabbing his shirt to slip into it. It was a warm evening, darkness like a plushy blanket wrapped around the world, and Lisbon sat in one of the deck chairs close to the river, listening to the soft rush of the water.

It was time to live again. She felt truly full, and it was a strange sensation. No worries. No pressures that needed to be relieved, the most urgent questions answered. Her heart was heated from the unfamiliar sensation of a love so strong it humbled her, and she looked up to the stars, thinking about what she wanted. It was so much all of a sudden, when just yesterday even surviving had been pretty low on her list. Now there seemed a future so close, and it could begin tomorrow, waiting to engulf her, to start her onto something new she had never seen.

She took a deep breath. She was ready. But she was restless, too, and she sensed that the trip wasn't over.

She wanted to get to the ocean as fast as possible.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Jane awoke from a slumber so deep it left him dizzy for several minutes. He felt disheveled all over, hair a mess, throat raw. His body was still more or less a happy puddle, and he grinned when he remembered what they had done together. His cock stirred to demand more, and with a sigh he leaned over in the dark sleeping chamber, groping for his soft little woman. He jerked upright when he didn't find her, a frown forming on his face. Where was she?

He didn't find his shirt, so he just put on his boxers and went outside. He saw her immediately, sitting with her legs crossed on a deck chair, his shirt wrapped around her frame. She looked small and frail and disheveled and so beautiful he felt he couldn't breathe.

He approached slowly and sat down next to her in the free deck chair, his whole body soaring from her closeness, his body rising to what it understood as a challenge.

Not looking at him, she smiled a little secretive smile.

"Hey," he said softly, "sorry, Teresa, I, uhm… I got a little carried away in there. I usually don't behave like a sex-crazed caveman."

She pouted, and he started to laugh, the sound so happy and relaxed it almost startled him.

"On the other hand, well… if you liked it that much, I guess I can reproduce the effect, I mean, with a little help…"

She chuckled and scooted closer, sighing when he caught her in his arms, pulling her onto his lap, her small body molding to his. Since he had ripped them of in his fervor, she hadn't been able to close the buttons on his shirt and was gloriously naked beneath it. He groaned when he pushed his fingers under the fabric, sliding them around her torso, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I love you."

She closed her eyes and pushed her forehead against his.

"I love you, too, Jane."

He kissed her, tenderly at first, his tongue only out to play, sweeping through her warm mouth in a sweet, teasing motion until she gasped with desire and heightened the pressure, wrapping her hands around his head to hold him still, kissing him properly. She was warm and passionate, her fingers gliding down his throat and chest, trailing the ridges of his body while she pushed her tongue deeper, moaning against his lips.

"What do we do now?" He whispered once she had to come up for air.

Her voice was hardly more than a sharp gush of breath.

"We don't talk."

TBC

_So- there will be a whole lot of sex mixed into this from now on, so it stays a BIG M. I hope I can write the next chapter soon, but it's quite an effort at the moment , so please- be patient with me. Thank you for reading my stuff!_


	7. Chapter 7

_I'M SO SORRY! Sorry that you had to wait this long for this chapter- but I've been in hospital since Wednesday (pancreatitis, most likely caused by gall stones) and after the pain lessened a bit, I found that I totally couldn't write anything sexy in that atmosphere. I was released yesterday and wrote this chapter today. It's pretty short because I just wanted to get something DONE for a change, but the next one could well be longer._

_This chapter is M, totally so, and there's little more than M to it (wait for it: NO PLOT ;D!). I hope you like it!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist", and I don't make money from fan fiction._

Ch.7

It was dark, unnaturally dark for the bullpen even in the middle of night. He felt the onslaught of panic and dread like a cold flame inside of him, and it wouldn't die down, wouldn't vanish no matter which mental tricks he tried. He shivered. There seemed to be a thin fog covering the floor, wavering around him like barely visible ties, dirty strings holding him. He swallowed. When he looked up, he saw her, pale and beautiful, her face serene and worried.

"Lisbon!" he cried out, but when he got closer, he saw Red John's bloody smile on the window behind her, like a threat that would never cease to endanger her.

"Lisbon!" he screamed and tried to get closer to her, but the darkness became opaque, closing in on her from all sides, and he just couldn't cover the distance fast enough.

He woke up sweaty and scared, breathing rapidly, and it took him quite a while to regain his senses.

Lisbon was right next to him, her tender arms wrapped around him.

"It's okay," she whispered, "everything is alright. It was just a bad dream. I get those a lot, too."

He groped for her blindly, pulling her closer, until she straddled his thighs and he could give her a full-bodied hug. Skin on skin, he felt himself getting calmer on the spot, burying his face against her shoulder, taking a few deep, cleansing breaths.

"I'm alright," he muttered, "I'm still not over that I almost lost you. I'm so sorry, Lisbon. I never wanted you to get hurt, never."

She pushed her hands through his hair and kissed his face, shushing him gently, humming a tune he would remember all his life. He was so wildly in love, every feeling pulsing into this one, this bright, all-encompassing emotion, making him teary-eyed with its very force.

She kissed his lips.

"It's okay, Jane. I love you. I'm so glad you're here, with me."

Her lips were so soft and warm, caressing him deep down where emptiness used to reign, and he opened his mouth for her gently probing tongue, moaning when she pushed deeper, setting fire to his very core.

"Are you sore?" he whispered into her kiss.

"I'm alright."

He groaned and grabbed her, pushing her from his lap, placing her onto her back next to him. He covered her body with his and kissed her some more, hot, wet kisses, until her squirming told him she felt the same he did. Then he allowed his lips to wander down, down the slender column of her throat, the sharply protruding collarbones, until he reached the luxurious softness of her breasts. He played with her nipples, marveling at how responsive she was, every little caress no doubt zinging right to her core. He gently sucked and used just a flash of teeth, making her cry out in need.

"Jane…. Oh god, Jane, PLEASE…"

He lifted his head and smiled at her.

"You wait."

He kissed his way lower, over her flat, muscular stomach, teasing her hip bones with a few gentle bites, brushing his tongue through her sexy little navel.

He straightened and spread her legs as wide as they would go, all the time looking at her, making his face hard, telling her what he planned to do to her. She shuddered violently, and he broke into a cruel grin.

You wait, little girl.

He lowered his head again, scooting down a little in the process, and swept his tongue over her wet folds, already swollen and engorged for him. He groaned when her perfect taste registered, she was everything he needed, and he would never, ever let her go. He held her still when she started wriggling, her little noises of utter arousal driving him wild. He pushed his tongue into her, careful to amply tease her sensitive entrance, rubbing over nerve endings he knew would give her tremendous pleasure. She moaned his name, sounding like a song from her lips, and he felt blessed. After all he had done, there was still peace for him.

He pulled back and licked over her clit, sharply protruding, begging for his attention. When she screamed, he framed the small button with his lips, sucking sharply while he let his tongue swirl over the tip. He felt her come undone, her whole body arching off the mattress, forcing him to use the brunt of his weight to push her down. He sensed her climax running through her veins like wildfire and pushed up on his forearms, shoving his rock hard cock into her in one single stroke. She cried out at the same moment he did, their voices mingling into something even more intense, and he felt the sparkling sensation of desperate lust sizzle in his blood. It felt so good taking her, thrusting into her clenching core, overcoming her flesh's futile resistance. He made her come again and again, every time he surged into her, the broad base of his shaft rubbing against her clit, making her scream with ecstasy.

Her hands were touching him everywhere even while her body bounced under his pounding, she

touched his shoulders, arms, back, his hair, face, even his lips, seeking contact, needing him closer. His heart almost exploded from the force of his feelings, and he leaned down to kiss her, never slowing his vigorous strokes inside her body. Damn, she was so tight, she made him feel all kinds of things, made him raw and animal, and he couldn't stop it. He pushed against her resistance, again and again, making her come for him, again and again, lost in the beauty of her gift to him, feeling free for the first time in years. He thrust harder, faster, feeling the pleasure inside him mount into something scary, his balls full to bursting, ready to provide.

Her walls contracted around him, hard, milking him, and he gave in with a bone-melting moan, pulling out when he felt the first spill of seed broke free. He rose above her, gripping his cock with a firm hand, increasing the flow of semen with sharp, vigorous strokes. The spurts landed on her stomach, her breasts, her throat, and watching her getting spattered with his juices made him come all the harder. He carefully looked at her, searching for signs that she might not like what he was doing, but she bent her lithe body closer, her lips falling apart in pleasure, the tip of her tongue sneaking out to catch the drops of seed that were reaching up to her mouth.

His eyes rolled back into his head, and he leaned over her once more, guiding his spewing length back into her, driving home while he pressed his torso against hers, smearing his slick semen beneath them. He gave her a few deep thrusts, spending the rest of his essence inside of her, where it belonged, deep inside his woman's core.

He felt utterly exhausted once he was done, his whole body dry-heaving in the aftershocks of orgasm, his lips busy with lazy, soft kisses, playing with Lisbon's sweet mouth and tongue.

How marvelous she was, how wonderful. He loved her with every piece of his soul.

"Are you okay?" he said softly when he could talk again.

She smiled tiredly.

"Okay doesn't quite cover it… how about… deliriously happy?"

He chuckled.

"Hmmm, that sounds like me."

They kissed again, giggling, teasing each other gently.

He groaned.

"Sorry, I made a terrible mess."

She let her fingers glide over his jaw, making him shudder with bliss.

"I told you I like that."

"So you were serious?"

"Dead serious."

"I know."

"Of course."

He rubbed his nose against hers, shivering with the sheer delight of being that close to her. He rolled off her and pulled her close, sighing softly.

"I want to shower with you," she whispered.

"That's not possible in THIS shower, little minx. If you were willing to spend a night inside a hotel, we could shower together all day."

"No," she said firmly, "I want to stay here. I don't want to see anybody right now, please, Jane. I need a little time."

He put his fingers beneath her chin, making her lift her face.

"You have all the time you want, my darling. We will bathe in the ocean together in a few days. I can't wait."

"Me neither."

He kissed her forehead.

"Who first?"

"You go first- I need to regain my senses."

He groaned and got up reluctantly.

"As if I didn't need to do that as well… shall we leave right after breakfast?"

"Hmmm- I need to do my laundry first."

With a last kiss, he walked the few steps to the shower.

"Let's go via Santa Fe, then."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

He'd been shopping for a few items, and then had ended up buying more. Stuff for Lisbon, sweet little things that would make her life easier- or just made her smile. He understood that she wanted to be alone with him at the moment, after all they'd been through, the times of denial and being apart. He sighed. Why had it taken him so long to realize what he truly wanted?

Now, everything seemed clear and free of doubt, his heart calming down slowly, the uproar inside his mind easing down. Strangely, he felt his observational skills increasing, and found his interest in using them renewed. After he had killed Red John and had escaped the only home he had known for a decade, he had been mentally exhausted and disinterested in pretty much everything, licking his own wounds, caring about little else. But now, he started to watch and read people again, wondering if he might want to return solving crimes at some point in the future. Lisbon and he were a great team, they could outshine the cops anytime.

After he had carried his suits to the dry cleaner, he went looking for Lisbon at the local Laundromat she had chosen.

After he had entered the spacious hall, he couldn't resist staring at her for a while. She once again wore shorts and a tank top, her long hair open over her shoulders, dark silk running down her slim back. She stretched to reach the drier she was about to use, and Jane noticed the attention of about every male visitor in the room aimed at her alone. He grinned. There weren't only the typical lecherous idiots, but some guys who might get ideas about being some serious suitors for a woman like this, too. But this time… she was HIS.

Jane strolled over, whistling a happy tune, before he pulled Lisbon into his arms just like that, claiming her lips in a fierce kiss. She tasted so good his toes seemed to tingle with pleasure, and he gladly pulled her closer, letting his lips wander down her neck, delighting in the sweet, un-Lisbon-like little giggle she gave him.

"Do you think I need a haircut?" he whispered into her ear.

"No, leave it like this. I like your hair a little longer."

He kissed her again, her lips meltingly soft, her tongue so warm and firm, he gently sucked on it, making her squirm.

"Whatever my lady wishes," he breathed against her lips.

When he released her and looked around, he sensed male frustration all around him.

She's TAKEN, he thought with a smile. Suck it up.

He turned and wrapped his arms around her from behind, chuckling when she slapped his hands away from her breasts.

Looked as if they still were a passionate tryst and two showers away from starting their journey to the ocean, because he sure as hell couldn't drive as horny as this.

TBC

_Sorry this chapter is pretty short, but I had to get "back into the saddle" after I had not written a word during my time at the hospital… sorry! They will start driving to the ocean in the next chapter, REALLY! Thank you so much for reading!_


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